Anecdotes:
Something to think about when you feel like the whole world is
crashing in on you.
Sometimes we wonder,
"What did I do to deserve this?"
or, "Why did God have to do this to me?"
Here is a wonderful explanation! A daughter is telling her Mother how everything is going wrong, she's failing algebra, her boyfriend broke up with her and her best friend is moving away. Meanwhile, her Mother is baking a cake and asks her daughter if she would like a snack, and the daughter says,
"Absolutely Mom, I love your cake."
"Here, have some cooking oil," her Mother offers.
"Yuck" says her daughter.
"How about a couple raw eggs?"
"Gross, Mom!"
"Would you like some flour then? Or maybe baking soda?"
"Mom, those are all yucky!"
To which the Mother replies:
"Yes, all those things seem bad all by themselves.
But when they are put together in the right way, they make a wonderfully
delicious cake!"
God works the same way. Many times we wonder why He would let us go
through such bad and difficult times. But God knows that when He puts these
things all in His order, they always work for good! We just have to trust
Him and, eventually, they will all make something wonderful! God is crazy
about you. He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning.
Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen. He can live anywhere in the universe, and He chose your heart.
I hope your day is a "piece of cake!"
Marilyn A. Kinsella,
aka Taleypo the Storyteller
, Fairview Heights, IL
Storyteller, Writer,
Puppeteer, and Workshop Presenter
Q: How did you meet Larry?
A: Everyone seems surprised that Larry and I never officially met. We knew each other since childhood. And then he hated me until...well, I changed. (or maybe HE changed)-
2-25-2002
Dear Friends and Family of the Kinsella Great South West Trek,
Larry and I got home late Monday afternoon after nearly 4000 miles on the road. The trip exceeded our expectations. We had such fun! It started by meeting Larry's Wintercount friends in Tucson. We wove in and out the cavernous rooms filled with gold, silver, turquoise and every precious gem imaginable. Somehow, I emerged without depleting our vacation funds! Before we arrived in San Diego, Larry had to get directions for me to get to Wintercount - 40 miles from Phoenix; nestled between the Desert Mountains.
It had been raining like a banshee, but the rain stopped as we
approached
the dirt roads that led back to the desolate campsite. I must
diverge...did
you ever see the documentary where unexpected floods catch travelers
unaware
and think...how can someone be so stupid? Well, that's what happened.
There
we were with our truck loaded down with camping equipment, Larry's
flint
knapping paraphernalia, 2 weeks worth of clothes and Larry's trap drum
set.
Yes, I said "Larry's trap drum set." More on that later. Anyway, there
we
were on the dirt road. We noticed that little rivulets of water were
streaming across the road. There are no ditches. Hmmm. We slowed down
to a
crawl. No traffic coming from the opposite direction. Hmmm. Now, the
road
has broken away in so many places that it makes a steady stream of
water
washing across the road. We didn't really panic until the back end of
the
truck loaded with (refer to list above) started to fish tail. OHMAGA!
We
passed a cross road where the water was white-capping! Now we're
scared. How
deep is it getting? Time for prayer -
"St. Christopher, I know they say
you
really don't exist, but please see us through this. You carried the
Christ
child on your shoulders through the raging river. Please place us on
your
shoulders to safety."
Who says St. Christopher isn't real? For right
then,
we miraculously rose to higher ground. When we got to the camp, we had
white
knuckled the dash, and we couldn't move. Larry retrieved the directions
for
me and in a couple of hours we made it back onto the Interstate. I
wanted to
open the door and kiss the pavement!
On to San Diego! I was there for the storytelling conference in '99 and
fell
in love with the city. I wasn't disappointed when I returned. If
anything,
it outdid my memories. We spent a couple of nights with Larry's cousin,
Joe
and his wife Bridgit. We were introduced to their two little girls -
Emily
(3) and Elise (2). What charmers they are! We sipped tea at Elise's
birthday
tea party, watched Blue's Clues, and drew funny pictures on the new
improved
Etch-a-Sketch. I introduced them to Samantha, my gorilla puppet who
wore a
pretty pink dress to the tea party. We went to the beach on Coronado
Island
and collected seashells and got our feet soaked as a wave slipped under
our
unsuspecting foot falls. Bridgit and I spent an afternoon away from the
kids
at the gas light area in a wonderful shop called "Splash" where they
produce
"wearable art." Again, I escaped with my checking account in tact.
Later we
went to see the delightfully funny "Triple Expresso." I stayed a
couple of
extra days to meet up with my childhood friend while Larry left for
Wintercount.
How much fun to meet up with Joan. 40 years slipped away and we were
young
teenagers once again sharing secrets and giggling our way through the
Wild
Animal Park. Clashes of rhinos, herds of wild deer, and flocks of
wildly
feathered birds lined our walk through the African countryside. Later
we met
up with her manfriend, George, at the seaside restaurant - The Beach
House.
After a totally delicious meal we sipped Kailua and coffee and watched
the
sun slip under the marine layer. A cool breeze, salty sea air, and
white-capped waves slipping towards shore put the finishing touches on
that
perfect evening. I even had a sleepover at Joan and George's beautiful
home
in Del Mar. Early the next morning Joan took me to the airport. As I
rose
above the Pacific, I waved good-bye to beautiful San Diego and memories
of
family and friends.
When I got to Phoenix, I was greeted by another childhood friend,
Roger.
We've kept in touch over the years and it was good to spend some real
time
together. He surprised me by taking me up to Sedona for lunch. This
country
truly takes my breath away. The creative spirit took extra care carving
out
the red mountains. Everywhere you look there was another picture
postcard
etched into the memory bank. We ate at a little artsy fartsy, new agey,
Hispanic "mission." After taking in the art and, of course, clothing
stores,
we ate at a Mexican Restaurant. Roger gave me a private tour of the
many
places that he and his wife, Toni, had visited in the past. We were
never at
a loss for words - sharing stories of family, jobs, and great
genealogical
finds.
When we arrived back at Phoenix, Roger took me to my cousins, Vince and
Gloria's, house. We dined that night at the Javelina Inn. I was hoping
for
"pickled Javelina feet" or Javelina on a stick, but was forewarned
about
those smelly little critters. I settled for some good ole American meat
loaf. Next day Gloria graciously took me to the bus depot to take the
Greyhound bus to Prescott. I love riding the bus - such an eclectic mix
of
people. After some major people watching, I dosed off until I "came
home" to
Prescott.
I say, "came home" because Prescott is my home away from home. When I
was a teenager I spent 3 weeks at my cousins - The Gray Family. It was a magical time where I experienced my coming of age! Bobby met me at the station. Prescott has changed immeasurably since I strolled around the square during the Goldwater years. We stopped for lunch at a college coffee/sandwich bistro and meandered around a block of homes that I can only describe as "retro." Each little cottage was brightly colored with a mix of
psychedelic colors with funky little yard ornaments. Each house had its own
character - fabrics, art, music and "the Mad Linguist." As is happened, the mad
linguist was featuring an evening of poetry and song that night. So later that
night we entered into a "safe" house full of words and music. Most of the
work presented that night was actually fairly good and all of it was
enjoyable.
I spent most of the time at my cousin Sara and Pat's home. They have
this
absolutely, to die for, adobe home on the outskirts of Prescott. It was
the
perfect reprieve for some quiet downtime. Since everyone had to work, I
stayed in to do some reading and major lolling around. In the evenings
we
had supper together. One evening we spent with another "Gray" - Brian
and
his wife, Vickie. On Friday, Bobby took me down to Wintercount. It was
"a
fer piece" and I can't tell him how much I appreciated his willingness
to
take me to the hinterlands.
The last night of our true vacation was pure magic. I admit, I cursed
this
place - dry, arid piece of no-man's-land full of nasty nettle and
stickers.
But at night? Well, a blanket of darkness gently covers the earth and
the
night sky is wrapped in a canopy of starlight. Around the flickering
fires I
was introduced to many of Larry's Abo-buddies. These wonderful people
come
from many walks of life to experience a back-to-the-mother earth week
of
workshops on wilderness survival. They asked me to do a session of
storytelling. I hadn't told in 3 weeks. But the stories came pouring
out. My
muse was sitting on the half moon as Br'er Possum, The Hobyhahs, and
the
Whistling Tsonaquas made their appearance around the fire.
Later Larry got out his trap drum set (remember I told you I'd get
around to
us traveling with his drums). Larry has a theory that there is
something
inherent in abo-people and music. There are many musicians in the
group. Not
just piddlers - real musicians. So, there was our friend Rob playing
the
guitar and singing his original songs including his "I'm an Ab-original
man
looking for an aboriginal girl. There was a fabulous young
banjo/mandolin/guitarist/singer by the name of Rick. I can only say
that
when he played, the stars got brighter as they came in closer to hear
his
music. We expect to hear great things from him. George was there to
play
bass and, of course, Larry on the drums. They played blues and jazz and
some
neo-country. It was one of those special times in your life when you
have to
pinch yourself to believe you are really there.
We left with moon still hanging above the mountains. After a night in
Phoenix, we faced the truck towards the rising sun and took off for
home.
And that would be the end of the story...except. When we left Amarillo
the
next morning there were dire predictions for a major snowstorm. Being
the
eternal optimists that we are, we thought mayhaps we could
"out-distance"
the storm. We were in the lead until we almost...almost reached
Oklahoma City. There was an icy white out that whistled eerily "It's not nice to fool Mother Nature." Luckily, Saint Christopher (or was it Our Lady of the
Snows) was still with us. Out of the fog and ice and snow there loomed a new
Microtel Motel. We made the quick (and soon to be confirmed) wise
decision
to call it a day at 10:00 am. So, we extended our vacation one more
day. The
next day as we trudged onward we saw at least a 100 cars (or their
tracks)
that were stranded in the snow along I-40 and I-44. Thank goodness we
listened to that wise inner voice - stop...stop now!
Well we got home late Monday. Our house never looked so warm and
inviting.
That night as we drifted off to sleep in our own beds with our own
pillows
and blankets we slept perchance to dream of that wonderful vacation to
the
great Southwest.
Thank you to you all who gave us a scrapbook of memories to carry with
us.
Marilyn (Niemann) Kinsella, Fairview Heights, IL.